Chapter 1: The Indus

5-1 Through Asceticism and Meditation—the Buddha’s Surprising Decision

　　　Before I delve into the life of the Buddha, I think the idea of samasara deserves a bit more attention. After all, it’s the chief premise for the entirety of Indian philosophy, not to mention a concept that may have existed from the outset of the Indus civilization.
　　　In the latter half of the eighteenth century, Edo Japan witnessed the rise of a rare and influential scholar by the name of Hirata Atsutane (1776-1843). Hirata was most well known as one of the leading figures of the kokugaku tradition, a school of Japanese philology where scholars examined eighth-century works of classical Japanese literature like the Manyoshu and Kojiki, texts which, until then, had been largely overlooked by academics in favor of Chinese, Confucian and Buddhist studies. Besides being a fervent believer of the Japanese folk religion, Shintoism, he was a Shinto theologian. But what made Hirata especially unusual was his deep-seated interest in that which was clearly and fundamentally at odds with Shinto doctrine—the supernatural fascinated him.

▲Previous existence of Katsugoro, Grave of Tozo　©️ skipinof / PIXTA

　　　Then came along Katsugoro Koyata, the son of a farmer and contemporary of Hirata who lived in Tamagun City of Musashi Province (present-day Hachioji, Tokyo). His story was also unique. When Katsugoro was eight years old, the tale goes, he experienced the overwhelming urge to tell his sister that he used to be a boy named Tozo who died at the age of six of small pocks in neighboring Hodokubo (present-day Hino, Tokyo). Katsugoro proceeded to give details of his life as Tozo up through his death and rebirth. And, as people discovered, a recently deceased boy named Tozo really did live in Hokubo. There was no way the eight-year-old Katsugoro would have visited the village of Hodokubo, and his account contained information only Tozo could have known. Thanks to the story’s strong credibility—it’s unlikely the young boy had an intention to deceive—the unusual chronicle became an instant sensation and made its way to Edo, the then-capital of Japan.
　　　Hirata was enthralled and, the next year, summoned Katsugoro to Edo for thorough questioning. He proceeded to chronicle Katsugoro’s story, turning an account and analysis into a single volume titled Katsugoro Saisei Kibun (Record of Katsugoro's Rebirth), which even the emperor at the time supposedly read.
　　　Then, in the Meiji period, with the prominent writer Lafcadio Hearn (Yakumo Koizumi, 1850-1904) Katsugoro’s story gained new life. Familiar with the boy’s story, Lafcadio wrote his own account in English before publishing it to the world in his work titled Gleanings in Buddha-field. Still today, at the Hino City Local Museum in Tozo’s hometown, research into Katsugoro’s account is going strong. The Record of Katsugoro's Rebirth is, in fact, the most detailed account of samsara before the dawn of the modern age.
　　　Every so often, accounts like that of Katsugoro surface around the world. And surely, some may very well be fabrications. Some may simply be creations of the brain, sort of mental formations scientifically (at present) unexplainable. But until relatively recently, knowledge of the brain was, at the very least, limited. Perhaps, with such limited knowledge, the pre-modern citizen of the world had very little reason not to consider any and all accounts of samsara as fact.

The Bodhi Tree under which the Buddha is believed to have achieved enlightenment. Buddha Gaya, India  ©️ ロシ / PIXTA

　　　If samsara is a truth, then human beings must live forever. Or, to put it more accurately, while the human body may perish, the human soul is immortal.
　　　Though not accepting of samsara, the ancient Egyptians, as well as Christians and Muslims, believed that the soul is immortal. In Christianity, for example, the souls of those who have died and who have passed muster at the Last Judgement are reunited to their former physical bodies and given eternal life.
　　　But what most religions call the “spirit,” that so-called true human self, separate from the physical body, isn’t what Hinduism teaches. The Upanishads—that text born in the process of Brahmanism’s transformation into Hinduism—would say such a soul doesn’t exist and that, instead, there is Brahman, the ultimate reality of the universe, and Atman, which are one and the same—nothing more. If one can awaken to the nature of reality, that Brahman and Atman are identical (Tat Tvam Asi, “Thou art that”), and achieve enlightenment, one can achieve liberation from human suffering like sickness and conflict and achieve true freedom.
　　　Non-Hindus may wonder though: Why have the people of India, regardless of philosophical alignment, consistently considered samsara (the permanence of Atman) a cause of suffering and not great happiness? The simple answer is samsara; they consider it to be a vicious cycle to be escaped.
The shortcut to making sense of the “why” behind this philosophy I think lies in understanding the teachings of Buddhism, a religion that in many ways came into existence out of opposition to Hinduism.

The Eight Inescapable Tribulations of the Human Condition

　　　Though the exact date of his birth and death remains unclear (c. 565/463 – c. 485/383 BC [Nipponica]), the founder of Buddhism is known most commonly in English as Siddhartha Gautama. In Japan, the historical Buddha is referred to as Shaka, which comes from the Sanskrit Sakyamuni—Shaka, being a transliteration of Sakya (the tribe into which the Buddha was born) and Muni, a term for Indian sages (combined for Sakyamuni or “sage of the Sakyas). The actual term “Buddha” (Sanskrit for “awakened one”) is a title for someone who has achieved enlightenment.

▲Birthplace of Siddhartha Gautama, Lumbini　©️ Casper1774Studio

　　　While Siddhartha would later be recognized as transcendent of time and space with the epithet Shakyamuni Tathagata (Shaka Nyorai in Japanese, nyorai from the Sanskrit tathagata meaning “one who has thus come”), he was first Siddhartha Gautama, born in what is present-day southern Nepal. Southern Nepal was home to the Shakya state, where its leader, King Suddhodana, lived in the palace of Kapilavastu. His eldest son was Siddhartha. Siddhartha’s mother was Maya from the neighboring kingdom of Koliya. Buddhist tradition says she gave birth to Siddhartha in the town of Lumbini before dying seven days later. At birth, the legend continues, Siddhartha emerged from her right side and immediately proceeded to walk seven steps before stopping and pointing to the sky with his right hand and the ground with his left, saying, “I am chief of the world. Eldest am I in the world. Foremost am I in the world.” (Nagasawa, Yujin. 2017. Miracles: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press). Back in the capital, at Kapilavastu palace, Siddhartha is said to have been raised by Maya’s sister, who became King Suddhodana’s second wife.
Raised as successor of the kingdom, Siddhartha is believed to have matured into a man of exceptionable character. Siddhartha eventually married his maternal cousin, Yasodhara, and the two had a son, Rahula. Siddhartha seemed to be leading the perfect life. But for the man who had everything, Siddhartha was exceptionally uneasy.
　　　The trigger, it’s said, was the Four Sights.
　　　One day, outside the east gate of the palace, Siddhartha witnessed for the first time an old, decrepit man. It was the first time he had come to the realization that no one can escape the consequences of old age. On another day, he tried to exit through the south gate, but was met with the sight of a sick man, introducing him to disease and illness. At the west gate, he bore witness to death as a corpse lay before him. Siddhartha had come to realize the unescapable reality that all human life must end. The experiences showed him the inevitable suffering of old age, sickness, and death, as well as the pain of a life destined for such hardship. It was a moment of awakening and enlightenment for the young Siddhartha—life, sickness, old age, and death could be avoided by no one.
　　　There is an expression in Japanese still used today to describe particularly trying situations and experiences: shikuhakku (四苦八苦)—literally “four hardships, eight hardships.” The etymology of the phrase is clear; it’s attributed to the legendary account of Siddhartha’s first encounter with suffering. But what the phrase also references are four more types of human hardships (thus the latter “eight hardships”). The Buddha teaches there is also the pain that arises out of the separation from loved ones, encountering those whom one dislikes, the inability to obtain what one wants, and the inability to let go of the five aggregates (physical and mental cravings and attachments).
　　　Finally, when Siddhartha came to the north gate, the legend continues, he encountered a monk in training whose mind and tranquility seemed to have transcended the fundamental sufferings Siddhartha had witnessed. It was a life changing sight; it was a moment that would inspire the young prince to renounce rank, power, wealth, and family. He resolved to adopt a life of asceticism, to become a priest.
　　　Siddhartha left the palace in the middle of the night, discarding his extravagant clothes and jewels for a kasaya or robe made from soiled, discarded rags.
　　　So how would Siddhartha the priest escape a world of misery?

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　< Read the next installment March 1 >

Editor/ Noriko Knickerbocker , Aquarius Ltd.

Translator/ Matthew Hunter , Aquarius Ltd.

©Motohiko Izawa 2018-2019 All rights reserved. No reproduction or republication without written permission.